


Wrong Gear

by emmaliza



Category: Degrassi, Degrassi High, Degrassi Junior High, Degrassi the Next Generation
Genre: (like i tried to explain everything but i probably failed), 5+1 Things, Angst and Fluff, Denial, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, hurt/comfort elements, it's the 80s and everyone is repressed, more preslash than anything, semi-fandomblind friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 10:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11919198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Five times Snake and Wheels could have kissed, one time they couldn't have, and one time they did.





	Wrong Gear

**Author's Note:**

> So someone put all of the Degrassi on youtube, which I'm sure is great for teens dealing with The Issues of Today, but is terrible for my productivity. It also means all the OTP feels for these two came back, and this resulted.
> 
> I also kinda fudged with the timeline here, since Snake and Wheels should probably be studying for their grade 9 exams in 1990, but it looked weird if I skipped a year and then had two in the same one, and the whole point of including the years was so you could tell what order they were happening in anyway. ~~The American/Canadian/Northern Hemispherean system of having the school year spread across two calendar years remains strange and confusing to me.~~

**1\. 1987**

“I can't believe this!” Snake whines to no-one in particular as he fastens himself back up in front of the urinal. He spent all summer planning this campaign, the guys all told him he was a shoo-in, and now, boom! They've forgotten all about him to drool over Stephanie and her new miniskirts and tube tops. Not that Snake minds the miniskirts and tube tops, but that she's using them to steal his votes? Yeah, that he minds.

And it's weird – it's _Stephanie_. She was so mousy last year. Like Voula. Is that what happens when your parents get divorced?

“Don't worry about it, man,” says someone clapping him on the shoulder – Snake is surprised by how far he has to look down to find out who; he's not really used to being so much taller than everyone. It's that kid Wheels. Snake's sure that's not his actual name, but he doesn't know what it is; they don't really talk much. “It's nothing personal. I'm sure guys would vote for you if you let them kiss you.”

Wheels' hand is still on his arm, and Snake gives him a look. They say Steph likes him. Snake supposes, if he was a girl, he might find Wheels cute, with his fluffy blonde hair and big brown eyes. Like a puppy.

He shakes the guy away. “Leave me alone,” he says, and Wheels laughs as he walks out of there, running off to talk to Joey.

* * *

**2\. 1988**

Wheels groans as he pulls the blanket up over his head, as if that will block out the noise. He's exhausted, he just needs to sleep. His mom's gonna kill him if he misses the optometrist's again. Not that Snake and Joey seem to care, having too much fun arguing over what they're going to keep him up all night watching.

Well at least they're not arguing right now, but only because Joey's gone for ice cream, and Wheels has now doubt he'll switch away from Snake's stupid horror movie as soon as he's back. Not that Snake's taken that as any reason to _shut up_ , still merrily groaning and guffawing through the movie.

“Aw, yes... Aw, yes...”

Wheels frowns. Snake's – well he's not moaning exactly, but he's cutting it kinda close. And inexplicably, Wheels feels a... stirring. He curses himself. _Stupid teenage horrmones._ Dr. Sally says that's nothing to worry about, but still. First Steph, now this?

He cracks an eye open. See, Snake is totally disgusting, sitting there slack-jawed and all. Why does he have to be so noisy. “Snake?”

“What?” And Snake turns to look at him. He stares, and Wheels must be so tired he's forgotten words, because for a long moment he's just staring too, like he did when they were talking Snake into letting them sleep over. He was so embarrassed when he caught himself doing that, and relieved he and Joey didn't notice. Snake's hair is so weird. Is it red or blonde? It's kinda pretty.

He shakes his head. “Go to sleep. I really need to go to the eye doctor.”

* * *

**3\. 1989**

He wasn't sure Mom would let him have Wheels over, it is a schoolnight, and he knows she thinks Wheels is trouble, but she's been letting him get away with a lot recently. Spoiling him, in truth ( _because I'm her only son now_ ). But he did push hard how this was just to study, that Wheels badly needed to catch up, she seems to pity Wheels. _The poor boy,_ she said. _It must be awful, losing his parents._

They're in the middle of studying, talking about algebra or something, when Wheels suddenly announces: “Your place looks different.” He's frowning like he can't quite put his finger on what it is. “Less cluttered.” _Fewer photos._

“Mom and Dad have been doing some redecorating,” Snake says. He's not going to tell Wheels about the Glen situation, he's not going to tell anyone about the Glen situation. He wouldn't do that to his brother – even if, according to his parents, he doesn't even have a brother.

Wheels nods and the conversation moves on. When they're about to go over trig, Snake decides he ought to go fetch more snacks, help steel Wheels for the task ahead. Before he can stand, however, Wheels suddenly grabs his wrist. “Snake?”

“Yeah?” There's a weird look on his face. They're just staring at each other again, and it seems like they do that a lot nowadays. Snake fidgets awkwardly.

“Thanks for helping me out with all this,” says Wheels. “You didn't have to.”

Snake shrugs. “Sure I did,” he says. “You're my friend, man, I wanna help.”

Wheels chuckles. “I know. I've not exactly made it easy for you though, have I?”

“That's okay.” It isn't really; Snake has spent the past half a year getting increasingly frustrated with Wheels' lashing out, and feeling guilty because why shouldn't Wheels lash out? His parents are dead. Snake has no idea what he's going through. Getting annoyed because they never see him anymore seems dumb and petty.

“Sure,” says Wheels, clearly not believing him, and Snake frowns.

“I mean it,” he says, sitting back down properly and wrapping his hand around Wheels'. “I'm here for you, man. Whatever you need. Just... no more running off and almost getting yourself killed, alright? We were worried sick about you.” His voice kind of embarrassingly hitches. He tried to talk Wheels out of running away, but Wheels has always been stubborn as a mule, even before his parents. Snake didn't want to break his trust, but he kept imagining all the awful things that could happen to him hitchhiking; he could end up dead or worse. He was sort of relieved when Joey broke, so he didn't have to do it.

“I know,” says Wheels. “I'm really sorry. I've been real dumb.”

“Well, that's why we study.” Wheels laughs at that. Snake hasn't let go of his hand. “Listen, man: don't tell Joey I said this, but... I care about you. A lot.”

He half-expects Wheels to laugh in his face, to ask if he's a – a – or something, but instead he just sits there, smiling strangely. “Thanks,” he says. They're still touching. It would be so easy to lean in and–

Snake shakes his head and pulls away. “Listen, I'm gonna go get more chips, and then we'll start on trig, alright?” Wheels groans reluctantly, but he doesn't refuse. Snake walks to the kitchen and takes a heavy breath.

He's not gonna be like Glen. He _has_ parents. And Wheels, more than anyone, must understand how much that matters.

* * *

**4\. 1990**

Snake is judging him. Fair enough, really, Wheels is judging himself pretty hard. Luckily, they're in path between outside the twins' house and their garden, so no-one can see him looking so shifty, not like _everyone_ saw him and Heather before. If he doesn't call her, if he acts like a dick about it, everyone's going to know. Still, it's not like they'd be surprised, they all know what a dick he's been ever since his parents died. He thought he was better. Apparently not.

“I don't know what to say,” he says, and he knows it's a weak excuse, but still.

“Apologise to her.” And of course Snake would say that. It's so easy for him, doing the right thing. He's such a great guy. It's really annoying.

He's leaning against the wall, blood still running hot from the kiss even as his stomach has turned to jelly, and Snake is standing about a foot away, about a foot taller than him. He knows Snake's right, he needs to apologise to Heather, he took advantage of her – but it wasn't like that at the time. She kissed him, after all, and he just wanted to enjoy it. He did enjoy it, he guesses; Heather's pretty, and her tongue works as well as anyone's. He just wanted to feel normal for a change; he's not really been interested in a girl, like a specific girl, since Steph when he was thirteen (and even then, honestly, it was usually her chasing after him). Since his parents died, really, he's not been able to even think about things like that, and that's kind of scary. He wants to move on. He doesn't want to still have nightmares about them after a year and a half. He doesn't want to be broken.

(Sometimes he still remembers the things that creep he met hitchhiking said to him. _Not interested in girls, huh?_ But that was just some pervert looking for an excuse to feel him up, not even worth remembering.)

He wants to be interested in girls, but he knows he's not interested in this girl. But he doesn't want to hurt her either. He likes Heather, a lot. She's sweet. She's sensible. She's kind of neurotic. She's the girl who always does the right thing. She's his friend.

Why does Snake have to be so tall? It's intimidating. See, he'd never have this problem; no-one could kiss him if they didn't really want to, they couldn't reach. Still, they're standing too close. Wheels doesn't know why that bothers him but it does. Suddenly he wonders what someone would think if they looked out the window and saw the two of them, all alone in the dark, and then he wonders why he's even worried about that. No-one would think anything. _What, am I afraid they'll think I'm easy?_

“Get real,” he says and he walks away. “You don't tell someone you don't really like them after you've fooled around.”

Maybe it wasn't Heather he wanted to kiss.

* * *

**5\. 1991**

“Snake?”

He stops and turns around, not surprised by who he sees approaching him hesitantly, no doubt remembering how their last face-to-face interaction went. He stops at the top of the stairs, and Wheels waits at the bottom, and neither of them breaches the gap. “You're back,” says Wheels.

Snake nods. “Yeah,” he says.

Wheels lets out a deep breath. “So, how are you?”

He hesitates. “Mind waiting a few days before asking me that?”

Wheels chuckles a little. “Alright,” he says. “So, are we, like, talking?”

That night he let Wheels sleep on his porch, and Wheels was so _ungrateful_ , didn't realise Snake had done the best he could, he was so angry he couldn't sleep himself. He told himself he was never gonna speak to the guy again. The Wheels he'd been friends with was gone, he told himself, replaced by this angry, bitter, untrustworthy stranger. His parents didn't want him talking to Wheels either, and they were right. The guy's just trouble. Snake's no good with trouble.

But then he called, after... after Claude. And he was completely different. He didn't say a word about himself. All he cared about was whether he, Snake, was okay.

He sighs. “Well, I can hardly say no now, can I? Now you've been there for me in my time of need? Shame on you, taking advantage of me when I was vulnerable.”

Wheels laughs. “Sorry man,” he says. Then he pauses. “Really. I am sorry. I know I hurt you.”

Snake shrugs. “I mean, you didn't steal from me. Go say sorry to Joey. Or his mom.”

“I have,” says Wheels. “But I treated you like shit, and I feel bad.”

Snake's no good with trouble. He doesn't know how to get out of it. “That's alright,” he says, and he knows acting like nothing happened is stupid, but he's gonna do it anyway. “So are you, like, okay?” He pauses. “Where are you even living now, anyway?”

“Back with my grandparents,” says Wheels, and he pulls a face, but there are no references an an 'old bag' so you know, progress. “And I'm back at counselling. Grandma wouldn't take me back unless I agreed to go.”

“Hey, we can be therapy buddies,” says Snake, and Wheels laughs, finally going up the stairs to join him. “You can bitch about your dead parents, I can bitch about the dead total stranger I found. It'll be a bonding experience.”

“Cool,” says Wheels, and maybe the thought of reconnecting over their horrible traumas shouldn't appeal to him, but what are you gonna do? “Snake?”

“Yeah?”

Wheels shrugs and smiles at him. “I missed you.”

Snake blinks. _I missed you too,_ is the first thing he thinks to say, and that's only polite – but it's more than that. He did miss Wheels when they weren't talking, even though he knew Wheels deserved it. He missed Wheels when they were talking too. He missed the Wheels he liked, this Wheels, the Wheels who wasn't so angry all the time. It seems his Wheels is back. Now if only Snake had any idea how to make him stay.

He shakes his head. He's being stupid. “I mean it's not like I went anywhere,” he says, and Wheels frowns. He sighs. “But thanks.”

Wheels just smiles at him then, and after a few moments smiling back, Snake starts to feel uncomfortable. He's glad he and Wheels are friends again. But that's all. Neither of them needs another problem.

“Come on man, let's get to class,” he says. “Your attendance doesn't need to get any worse.”

“I'm not sure that's possible.”

“You can try.”

* * *

**1\. 2003**

“What are you doing here Wheels?”

It's a good question. He shrugs and sighs uncomfortably. “Joey invited me,” he says. He'd been surprised to say the least. _He hasn't spoken to me for ten years. Why would he want to see me now?_ he'd asked. _Just come man, come on,_ said Joey. That was Joey, always talking them into bad ideas. Snake doesn't reply, and Wheels chuckles. “Don't worry, I thought it was stupid too.”

“Then why did you come?”

A pause, and then Wheels does his best to answer. “I suppose I was being selfish,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.” Snake averts his eyes. Wheels sighs. “I can go if you like.”

“No, it's – fine.” It doesn't sound fine. “Thanks for coming.”

He shrugs. “What are friends for?”

He thinks that's a mistake as soon as he says it. They haven't spoken in over a decade, and he's pretty sure Snake still hates him, can they really call themselves friends? But Snake looks him in the eye again. “I'm sorry I never wrote you.”

Wheels scoffs. “I mean, I killed a kid. I deserve a lot worse than that.” He still thinks about that poor kid sometimes. He'd be thirteen now, almost as old as Spike's daughter. “Don't worry Snake, I understand.”

“I'm not sure you do.” Wheels frowns, and Snake sighs. “I think I always sort of blamed myself.” _Why?_ “Because we had that fight, you know, about Joey and Caitlin or – your parents, or – honestly I don't even know what we were fighting about.” Wheels doesn't remember this at all. “But it got pretty serious, enough Lucy and Bronco had to break us up. Lucy asked you to go get chips just to get you away from me. Then you guys drove off, and...”

Wheels does remember the chips, although why that's the one detail that sticks in his brain, he has no idea. The whole day is sort of just a blur, and whether that's the booze or the trauma, he can't say. His memories don't get clear again until the next morning, when he was lying in a cell, the cops telling him what he'd done and he kept thinking _no, this can't be real, I wouldn't do that, not after my parents._

“You remember that day better than I do,” is all he can think to say. Snake shrugs.

“You were drunk.”

A silence falls between them. Wheels sighs deeply. “It wasn't your fault, Snake. No-one made me get behind the wheel. I've finally learned to take some responsibility.” He pauses. “Ten years is a long time, especially in prison. I've done a lot of thinking about my mistakes. About the people I hurt, and let down. My grandma. Lucy. That kid. You.”

“You didn't do anything to me, Wheels,” says Snake.

“So what, you didn't write or call for ten years because you just forgot?”

Snake smiles sadly at him. “I missed you,” he admits. “Even when I fucking hated you... I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Of course he did; they were best friends for years and then suddenly Snake was just this gaping absence in his life. Even if he knew he deserved it, it hurt. It hurt worse because he knew he deserved it. But Snake is here, now, looking almost like he's forgiven him, and Wheels knows that's too much to ask for but it's all coming back to him now, and they're just staring at each other–

Snake hurriedly averts his eyes. “I have a wife,” he blurts out. “I have a son.”

“I know,” says Wheels. Joey told him about the wedding, with a voice that said he hoped Snake was going to invite him after all, but Wheels knew it wasn't gonna happen. “Give my love to Spike, will you?” Love might be stretching it, they didn't really talk at school, but still – he wishes her all the best. He sighs and takes a long gulp of his soda. “Talk about missing my chance,” he mutters.

“Chances,” says Snake. “And to be fair: it wasn't all you.”

* * *

**1\. 1992**

Snake has decided studying out on the porch was a stupid idea, and is just about to go back inside when someone walks into his backyard. “Hey Snake!” calls Wheels, and he looks up vaguely.

“Hey Wheels,” he mumbles, not taking his eyes away from the page, not wanting to get distracted. Wheels doesn't seem to mind, sitting down next to him, putting down a plastic bag in front of him. It clinks.

“Hey, is this alright?” asks Wheels, and Snake finally looks up to see him looking back over his shoulder worriedly. “Your parents won't mind me being here?”

Snake shakes his head. “It's fine.” They're still not thrilled about Wheels, they still think he's trouble, but they realise Snake will just see him behind their backs anyway. “But I need to study.”

“Relax Snake, your textbook isn't going anywhere,” Wheels says, and Snake tries to glare at him, but it doesn't work out very well. “So, you're not going to Lucy's party then?”

Snake blinks. “That's tonight?”

“Yeah. Last chance before exams.”

Of course he forgot. Of course. “I want to go, really, but – study.”

“Of course,” says Wheels with a funny smile. Snake almost feels patronised.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

Wheels rolls his eyes. “Snake, you're going to do well. You always do well. You don't need to worry so much.”

“Right, no need to worry! It's not like this is senior year, actual proper final senior year, do-well-or-die-naked-and-homeless-on-the-streets senior year!” Wheels just laughs at his hysterics. Snake huffs. “Shouldn't you be studying too?” Wheels' grades have improved since last year, but that really isn't saying much.

Wheels bristles slightly, and for a second Snake's afraid it'll turn into a fight, but it doesn't. “Don't worry, I've spent the last week cooped up in my room, thinking of you.” Snake is taken aback, and Wheels clarifies. “Your study techniques, I mean. You won't believe this, but my grandma actually told me to go out and have some fun. I think she was just sick of having me in the house, to be honest.”

Wheels' relationship with his grandmother is better now, but again, not saying much. He'll move out as soon as it's financially viable, and both he and his grandmother will be happier for it. “Oh,” says Snake, and Wheels doesn't reply, instead reaching into his bag and pulling something out. Snake frowns. “Is that beer?”

“Yeah? I was going to a party, remember?” Wheels opens the bottle with his teeth, which – well one, when did he learn to do that; two, great, that's just what Wheels needs, broken teeth. “You want one?”

“No thanks.” He can just imagine the look on his mom's face if she knew he was drinking when he was meant to be studying. He knows it's none of his business if Wheels drinks; he's nineteen now, albeit barely, and it's not like he's driving to the party – he doesn't even own a car. Still, he remembers when they were all fifteen, when he and Joey were secretly drinking, and Wheels didn't want to. _My parents were killed by a drunk driver, remember?_

Snake knows he doesn't have a real reason to be worried. But he worries that Wheels isn't worried.

“Please tell me you're not going to show up wasted to Lucy's party,” he says, and he feels bad as soon as he says it. Wheels is his friend, Snake can't just go about insulting him whenever he's nervous – especially because, you know, he's always nervous. He wants to apologise, but Wheels just rolls his eyes.

“I've had one beer, relax,” he says. “You don't need to worry about me so much.”

Snake hesitates, and then looks away, almost blushing he's so embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Bad habit, I guess.”

“I mean, I can hardly say I didn't earn it,” says Wheels, and yeah, that's true. “So don't worry. Honestly, it's uh, actually kind of nice?” And now it's Wheels' turn to look painfully embarrassed, shrugging and averting his eyes. “You know. Like somebody cares about me.”

Snake rolls his eyes. “People care about you, Wheels. We wouldn't get so frustrated with you if we didn't care.”

“Yeah yeah, what are you, my counsellor?” Snake knows Wheels hasn't gone to counselling in three months, but he wants to believe that's because he really is okay now, and not because he's just given up. “Still. I don't know why you lot put up with my bull, that's all.”

“ _Wheels_.” Unthinkingly, Snake puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes. Sure, there have been times he thought he never wanted to see Wheels again, but Wheels is his friend, and Snake doesn't want him to feel like that. “It's not like that. I like you. There are good parts of being your friend.”

And Wheels looks up at him, smiling softly. “Like what?”

Snake glares at him. “Okay, now you're just fishing for compliments.”

“Yeah, so?”

They both laugh, and then they're just staring at each other again. Maybe Snake should try and actually answer the question, but he doesn't know how to put it into words, everything he feels about Wheels. But Wheels somehow looks like he knows, and Snake wonders how he could but he supposes they've known each other a long time, they're sitting so close and smiling like idiots and maybe he should be worried but somehow it just feels right and–

Lips.

Snake doesn't know how it happened but suddenly Wheels lips are against his and he doesn't know which one of them started it but one of them is kissing and the other is kissing back, and it's not like kissing a girl, not that Snake has much to compare it to, but he couldn't believe he's kissing anyone but Wheels with his huge glasses and never-cut hair, and the kiss is pretty chaste, no tongue or anything, but neither of them is pulling away even as stubble grazes Snake's cheeks and he keeps bumping his nose against the bridge of Wheels' glasses, and he's just about to reach up and put them away when–

“Archie! Could you come help me with dinner for a second?”

Snake jumps away as if burned. “Coming Mom!” he calls out in a panic, before turning to face Wheels, who looks dumbstruck. _I kissed him, right here on our porch, what the hell was I thinking, what if Mom and Dad saw, what if they thought I was like Glen, what if they kicked me out, and what the hell was_ he _thinking, he's always doing this, always getting me in trouble, always confusing me._ “I – I need to go,” he stutters, and Wheels nods along.

“Yeah,” he says, “we can – talk after you get back.”

Snake shakes his head, hurriedly standing up, out of Wheels' embrace before his mom sees, “no, I – it's gonna take awhile, you should probably just go.” Because he can't talk about this, he just can't, he can't even acknowledge this happened.

Wheels frowns. “Snake–”

“Just _go_ , okay?!”

Silence, and then Snake can see Wheels face turn – hurt, and then angry.

“Fine,” he says, grabbing the plastic bag and taking a long gulp from his beer. “I'll go.”

He walks away, and they never speak of it again.

 


End file.
